


He'll Come Again

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Easter, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was asked for fluffy Easter stuff. So here's some destiel for Easter Morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He'll Come Again

The sun, still warm instead of hot, the beginning of spring, sifted through the closed blinds of the motel room. Dean’s eyes were heavy as he woke to the sounds of children outside, running around and cackling as they found hidden eggs. It didn’t matter if they were at a motel room, Easter was Easter, children were children, and eggs had to be hunted.  
Dean smiled at the sound of it, remembering an egg hunt from long ago. He had a paper bag, Sam had a plastic one, and they had run through a parking lot, looking for hidden treasures. Sam couldn’t have been older than five and, now, Dean bet that Sam didn’t even remember it.   
He had snuck out that night, bought plastic eggs all ready with toys in them, and hid them all over outside. When he woke Sam up in the morning, he told him that the Easter Bunny had visited, he really had, and they had to go out and hunt for eggs. Sam had, of course, heard about Easter, and he was extraordinarily excited to participate in his first hunt.   
It had taken them hours to find all of the eggs, Dean pretending he didn’t know where they were hidden.   
He looked down at the lump at his side, the black mass resting on his chest. Cas had never gone egg hunting. Dean stroked his thick hair. He wanted to share that experience with him. Cas was older than time though, he wouldn’t be interested. He had much more important things to do, even now as a human. Dean was sure that Cas would find it silly.   
Cas hummed at the feeling of Dean’s fingers in his hair. He was starting to wake up. Dean stopped. He didn’t want Cas to wake up, not yet. He wanted to lay there, Cas soft and asleep on his chest. He wanted to reminisce and think of the future, of things he wanted to share with him; he wanted to feel Cas’s heartbeat in his chest, his breath against his chest hair, his heat against his skin.   
He just wanted Cas there with him.  
But Cas woke up, groggy and clinging, fingers wrapped against his ribs and pulling him tight against him.   
“Morning.” He mumbled, hiding his face in Dean’s side.   
Dean reached down, taking Cas’s face softly in hand, and pulled him out of hiding. Cas had a pretty face, Dean hated it when he hid it. “Morning, Birdy.”   
Birdy was Dean’s pet name for Cas, the only one he'd ever used now that he was human. It fit. Cas filled the word up, better than he had angel, and Dean could never call him baby or sweetheart. That was just wrong, demeaning, and it didn’t fit his mouth.  
“Christ is risen.” Cas mumbled, scraping his stubble against Dean’s jaw as he shifted, pulling himself up onto Dean’s body, leaning chest to chest.   
“Hmm?” Dean asked, not quite understanding as Cas kissed him, long and deep, his mouth tasting like sleep.   
“Humans use this day to celebrate Christ rising from the dead.” Cas explained.  
“I forgot about that.” Dean admitted, pulling Cas down to kiss him again. He liked kissing Cas, feeling all of that warmth and care and love in his broken birds mouth. Sometimes, when he opens his eyes, Cas’s would already be open, watching over him even here.   
“Of course you did.” Cas chuckled. Cas chuckled now and it was deep and throaty. A wonderful sound.   
Dean wrapped his arms around him and turned, crushing Cas underneath him. Spring awoke something in him, as if he were blossoming, and he was coming alive again. He smothered Cas in his kisses, rained love down on him, stole his breath. And Cas gave it willingly, kissed him back, gave and gave until there was nothing left of him.   
Cas was not spring. He was winter. He was pure and stark and cold and blanketing without ceremony. He would freeze Dean if he could, wrap him up in snowdrifts and keep him still forever, filling him with tremors.   
His lips trailed down Dean’s chest, found his adam’s apple, found his clavicle. He wasn’t trying to, but Dean’s body was reacting to the cold touch that remained after his lips had moved on.  
“Oh, Christ!” Dean moaned, “Sorry, Cas, I was gonna make you breakfast in bed, eggs and bacon and everything.” It was the truth. Dean had been planning for this. He even had a chocolate bunny with its ears already bitten off. He was looking forward to seeing Cas’s reaction to that.  
Cas kept going though, palming his hardening cock. “It can wait. It looks like Christ isn’t the only thing that’s risen today.”  
Dean laughed at that. It was a really terrible line, but he loved it anyway, and he pressed further against Cas’s lithe body.


End file.
